She cut her thumbnails down to the quick,
making leverage for tearing scabs
nearly impossible, but still, she rubbed.
Didn't her daddy teach her just to rub,
not scratch, mosquito bites when they itched?
He never told her what to do when it burned,
when she wanted to peel her skin off,
pull her hair out, when the pain distracted
from everything. Then it was time for water.
Then she'd head to the river, she'd wait
for a flood if she had to, for rinsing her head,
to dunk her soul in, to cleanse, to wash the itch.
This is my response to last week's 100 Word Song at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog, which was "Pain Lies On The Riverside" by Live.
Very powerful, almost frantic in the need to stop her from feeling.
ReplyDeleteIs it just me ro is "the pain" emotional, not physical. He wants him to stop her from feeling madness.
ReplyDeleteThe scabs are abuse or emotional turmoil or something she can't deal with.
anyway, great interpretation. I love the desperation of the words and how you ended it.
It is amazing how stress will manifest in a physical way - the body knows something is wrong on the inside. You have dug beneath the surface here in an uncomfortable way, that shows tremendous understanding for the pain which lies within.
ReplyDeleteSometimes nothing helps until you can dunk not just your head, but your soul as well. This is as beautiful as it is distressing.
ReplyDeleteUgh... this make my skin start to itch!
ReplyDeletebeautiful, and pensive. how does one ever stop that itch of pain? x
ReplyDeletei wish i knew! thank you, lovely friends.
ReplyDeleteI leaped to Ophelia, not just Shakespeare's but all the Ophelias. But then backed up and saw that she tries so hard--removing leverage, taking dad's advice not to make it larger, then water to stop burning, finally waiting for the Flood, cleansing? Death? Baptism? I want to hold her, to calm her neck and scalp, to help her to hear about mercy . . .
ReplyDeleteThank you.
exactly what she needs :)
Deletegritty poem.the craft that evokes such a vivid sensation of physical agony through words, is, as always, admirable.
ReplyDeleteWe find our own way of correcting unfortunate happenings. Great way of expressing it here, Marian!
ReplyDeleteHank
Nice work here. We all want to scratch that itch--the secret is to not get carried away. Moderation in all things.
ReplyDeleteSeveral layers of thought to this. I wonder if it is more than just a mosquito itch too. But then, I was quite allergic to the little buggers when I first moved to Canada and Black fly and certain other things can and do still cause quite a nasty reaction even after 11 years. So, I can understand the need to scratch her skin right off too...LOL
ReplyDeleteVery powerful imagery in this.
Love these:
ReplyDelete"making leverage for tearing scabs
nearly impossible"
"Didn't her daddy teach her just to rub"
"when she wanted to peel her skin off"
That must be some itchy itch. If this is metaphor, there are some things we just can't peel and throw away in the river ~
ReplyDeletetrue enough. thanks for reading and commenting, friends.
ReplyDeletebeautiful rich writing!
ReplyDeletethank you :)
ReplyDeleteYou scratch my itch, I'll scratch yours... ?!
ReplyDeleteokay :)
ReplyDelete